But God Sees
by Servant of Fire
Summary: Spoilers for His Last Vow. (Written because the ending didn't sit well with me, so I had to add my spin). John slips a letter into Sherlock's sleeve, that he read in the 4 minutes of his exile.


**But God Sees~**

Sherlock borded the plane, the envelope that John had passed him scratching his wrist from inside his sleeve. He sat down, a defeated figure, and slid the envelope into his lap, trying very hard for none of his guards to see it.

This was the end of his life, he was fairly certain. What he had done, was done, right or wrong. It felt very wrong, but it had also been necessary, atleast it was what he calculated to be absolutely neccesary.

He was beginning to think that maybe it would have been better if Mycroft had let them fire on him. He had failed everyone. And surely no one believed in him anymore...

And he half expected John's letter to be one condemning his rash ,last minute desicion. And he felt maybe he deserved it, even though what he did was , in his mind, was to get justice, and to guarantee the safety of John and his family, which were his family now as well...

Did his reasons make it right? He didn't know. He wasn't always right about everything. Infact, it was starting to look lately like he was wrong far more than he realized.

It was too painful to think about, so instead, he read the letter:

_Dear Sherlock,_

_So, knowing you VERY well by now, I know that you think what you did was right. And to be honest, I agree with you._

_I don't know if it was murder. I heard somewhere that Jesus said murder is in the heart. Well, I'm not a zealous man and I don't really remember all the Bible says. But ,I DO know that murder was NEVER in your heart( yes ,you do have one, and it's the most just one on earth.) I'm pretty sure if He said it, then it must be true._

_I wouldn't make a habit of what you have done. And I'm not neccesarily saying it was right to kill him, dangerous or not. See, your mistake, is to usurp authority and take it apoun yourself to do things. And sometimes, maybe that is neccesary. But Sherlock, please, please for the love of GOD, learn to submit to authority more._

_And learn that you aren't always right about everything. You were wrong, when you said, you weren't a hero. To me, and mine, you are. Yes, you may have failed...And miserably so..._

_But, God sees...And He understands. This much I do know, because He's given us so many second chances._

_First of all, you shouldn't be alive to be reading this letter. I should not be able to be writing it to you. If life went for us , like it does for other less fortunate people, then you would be dead a long time ago, and I should be begging you for one more miracle by your gravestone. But you walked from the rooftop, and you walked from the grave. And they didn't fire on you, when they SHOULD have, so I guess you walked away from the "Mind Vaults" too..._

_So, do one more miracle, as always, for me, would you? Walk away from this. And walk away a BETTER man( notice how I didn't say "good", cuz you already are, or so I think)._

_Because ,Sherlock, God sees. God knows the hearts. And when He opens His big book, and sits down on His white throne, and when He judges every person in the world for all that they did, bad and good..._

_Well, I think there will be a lot of bad things under your name. And this most recent thing might be on that list, maybe? I don't know anymore._

_But there will be far more good things..._

_God sees us all. You. Me.(I've killed people too...and just cuz I was a soldier, that doesn't make it right, does it? I don't know...)Mary(and she's killed people too...things aren't looking very well for us, are they?)_

_But we're still here. Under His eyes. And since we're still here, and made it through, all that we have...(are you "deducing" this yet?)_

_Well,genius, if you haven't guessed by now, I will tell you. If God sees us, after the way we have so miserably failed, and the things we have done..._

_Then that must mean that God forgives._

_And if God forgives, then maybe, just maybe, He will give us another miracle. Just one more yet..._

_So, do it one more time, Sherlock. Come back to me, when you can. Come and be my family, my brother the uncle to my child who's life you saved, in essence, by saving "Mummy". Come be the scourge of justice you always were. Come prove yourself, a third time (which they say is the charm, right?)_

_All this stuff, will work itself out. I mean, they didn't shoot you, so they must realize you were in the right, even if you went about it in the wrong way(which doesn't make much sense, the world is a confusing place...)_

_Yeah, the world is a confusing place. And sometimes it's just you and me, against all the madness...And the "Games"..._

_But if it helps you at all, whether you messed it up or not, I ,for one, still believe in you. After you Fell, I believed in you then. You've fallen from grace again, and I believe in you now._

_I will always believe in you..._

_And,ok, allow me to say it just this once...Just in case it is the last time..._

_I love you, Sherlock._

_Ok, that's it, Good luck in exile._

_-John._

Sherlock gasped into his enclosed fist, and would have cried. Tears of release. No, not from guilt, he still swears up and down he only took the most logical action, because Sherlock is very isistent on being right. Release from a grudge he'd been holding a long time.

Against himself.

Because , in all honesty, Sherlock Holmes "the Scourge of Justice", the greatest detective of all time, didn't really like himself very much. At least, not the him the papers were always depicting. Got tired of reading his own name. And really just wanted to be allowed to go back into the darkness of his own mind palace, and not come back. Maybe back into the sweet and frightening comatose of the days he was recovering from gun shot wound.

He liked being Darkness. Darkness was safe. Was so "Sherlock"... He didn't like this having his picture made, and being talked anout and photoed like he were the yeti come out for a nice stroll...

He also didn't like it that every time he messed up, which was alot, it became a sensation. He could be the Madonna, and Judas Iscariot on the same page of the same newspaper.

But no matter how much he wanted to be "darkness" and go back to crawling in the poison of his veins, his Light would always find him. And speak (or write) words of wisdom. A give him the Peace his darkness could not, no matter how hard he longed, or how deep he searched for it there.

He would have cried, not caring anymore, had his phone not rang, and it were Mycroft.

It was like God was confirming what John had just said, because he'd been gone for 4 minutes, and he was being turned around, to figure out Moriarty a second time.

A second chance. A Second Problem?

I didn't matter, the East wind was coming.

Or maybe the wind of change...


End file.
